51 degrees, rain
It all began with a knock on the door. Our daughter answered and I heard a small voice say, “Can you give this to your mom?” It was a bag of freshly cut rhubarb from our landlord and his family. I set it in a prominent place on the kitchen counter so it would stare at me impatiently each time I walked in, demanding to be used. How very summertime in Alaska, I thought to myself. I’ve found that bags of rhubarb always inevitably show up.
When Saturday morning rolled around, I got into the kitchen and made this almond rhubarb coffee cake. The batter alone was to die for, with intoxicating streaks of orange zest and just the right amount of cardamom. It was so gorgeous when it came out of the oven, steam rising up from where it had been sliced. My wife and I both devoured a piece with an audible chorus of “mmmms.” But the kids wouldn’t eat it. They wouldn’t even try it, because of the rhubarb. Not wanting the rest of this perfect, warm coffee cake to go to waste, I put slices on plates and we went around the neighborhood, passing it out to the neighbors. At one house, they were about to have a book club gathering, so I sent my daughter back with three more slices for everyone.
That night, I received an email from one of the members of the book club, requesting the recipe for the rhubarb coffee cake. She declared the recipe, “super delicious” and said she had tried several rhubarb coffee cake recipes and it was “by far the best.” So, for our landlord and his family, and the book club around the corner, this one’s for you.